She's embarrassed, slightly, at her misconceptions of finding peace in thsi field; of course it would make logical sense that she would be found (case, in point, the two equines currently talking to her), but she hoped her delusion of a peaceful setting would keep it as such. She knows that is illogical, and she is all about logic and stars and sky, for the world is infinitely interesting to her. She feels, at times, like she has a galaxy throughout her mind, unique and unfathomable.
His flattery is surprising but it boosts her confidence all the same, and she finds herself standing a slight bit taller, straighter. She cannot imagine herself getting approached by many, but she can hear wisdom in this stag's voice and she chooses to trust it. She is still young, and he seems to be decades more wise than she, so why wouldn't she trust him? She has not been hurt and is still inclined to trust, and blindly, so it is in her nature to trust someone such as he.
"I would stay until I had to leave." She doesn't know when that would've been, but it's true all the same. She tries to raise her voice, to make herself easier to hear, but it doesn't work quite as planned - she is still as soft-spoken as the warm breeze that swirls through their manes. "I hadn't planned on leaving, nor had I planned on staying for too long. I've not a home here, so I figured this would be as good a home as any other." She is not an explorer or a wanderer, she is a homebody, one built to nourish and care, to mother and to be a friend. She craves a home, always, but she is content so long as she is sheltered and without too much commotion. She hadn't given a departure too much thought until the stallion brought it up.
e l e n d i l
love her, but leave her wild